arthur’s seat

a found poem


 		arthur's seat
extinct volcano		peak
both slightly			feeling spent
what are sundays        	after all?
out on				blanket
ought / sought / thought required
	 fuzzy
	 down
	 skin
the		grass   
	ye
	not
	lovingly
		be one
	through my body
feel my face		scarlet red
right under		your hand
don't think		happier